


Closer Than Close To You

by aStarryNight



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, but like on the precipice of getting together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aStarryNight/pseuds/aStarryNight
Summary: She is so still and Beatrice hates it. Ava is supposed to be energetic and snarky and full of terrible jokes. She’s supposed to be reaching out to life with a vigor she’s never seen in anyone else before, not lying prone on a hospital bed.Especially not because of her.Or Beatrice is a wreck after Ava gets injured trying to save her and they grow a little bit closer.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 28
Kudos: 421





	Closer Than Close To You

**Author's Note:**

> We got a season 2!! I'm so excited :D This was another little idea that took off on a life of its own. I had the simple image of Beatrice touching Ava's scar and it turned into a whole mess of feelings. Hope you like it and thanks for reading!

Beatrice prides herself on her control. Years of martial arts, dance, and keeping up her parent’s expectations have taught her a strict discipline of her own body and actions. It was a necessity turned to instinct, almost a comfort at times.

But that control is faltering. 

She can feel it in the way her hands won’t stop fidgeting, the way anxious energy churns through her body and makes her pace across the room just to release some of it.

Beatrice can still feel the phantom warm stickiness of Ava’s blood as she clenches her hands into tight fists. Camila had sat her down and cleaned the blood off her skin, but the feeling had lingered. Or maybe it wasn’t the feel of blood that lingered, maybe it was the guilt of losing track of her surroundings which led to Ava pushing her out of the way. Maybe it was anger at Ava for acting so irresponsibly and rashly. There’s an even smaller voice that whispers maybe it’s the fear of losing someone who had somehow become so dear to her.

If only her parents could see her now. She can imagine their disappointed, condescending tone as they lectured her lack of control over _a girl_.

But Ava isn’t _just_ a girl and she hasn’t seen her parents in years. 

She doesn't want to be dragged back down into that mindset again, not when she’s starting to truly feel like herself. And she needs Ava to be alright because there are so many things she wants to say and to do. Things she doesn’t feel ready to admit just yet. So she has to be ok.

They said she was stable and will make a full recovery, but it’s been hours and Beatrice won’t quite accept it until Ava opens her eyes.

She is so still and Beatrice _hates_ it. Ava is supposed to be energetic and snarky and full of terrible jokes. She’s supposed to be reaching out to life with a vigor she’s never seen in anyone else before, not lying prone on a hospital bed.

Especially not because of her.

A quiet groan interrupts her spiraling thoughts and Beatrice almost gives herself whiplash with how fast she turns around. 

She rushes over, kneeling by her bedside, “Ava?” 

She smooths Ava’s hair away from her face as her eyes flutter open before shutting again. 

“Wha?” 

Her voice is hoarse and she’s not quite fully conscious yet, but a relieved laugh bubbles out of Beatrice at the sight of her finally awake. Her body sags forward as the swell of relief that sweeps through her body is so overwhelming she can’t do anything but stare.

Ava’s eyes finally focus on her, “Bea?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me,” she says, breathless. “How do you feel?”

“Mmm, tis but a scratch.” Her words are slightly slurred, but the corner of her mouth twitches up into a proud smile.

“Ava.” Beatrice doesn’t know if she wants to laugh or smack her.

“M’okay. Been better, but okay. Whatever meds you got me on right now is some good shit.”

“Good, good. I’m glad.” Her hands are still cupping Ava’s cheeks like physical touch was the only way to intrinsically confirm she was ok. She’s sure she must look frantic, clutching her like she’ll disappear at any moment, but it’s like her hands have a mind of their own and Beatrice can’t seem to bring herself to remove them.

“What happened?”

“We were fighting a horde of wraiths. We were all preoccupied and didn’t realize a Tarask had started to appear.” 

She watches as Ava slowly remembers the previous events. “That asshole was about to attack you so I tried to push you out of the way. Are you ok?”

“Yes, you took the brunt of the damage.” She doesn’t mention all the blood that splattered as it clawed across Ava’s back or the fact that Beatrice had froze as Ava’s weight collapsed on top of her, unable to do anything as she stared helplessly. It was the most terrified she’d ever been.

Ava tries to sit up, but the movement makes her face twist, a pained hiss escaping her mouth.

“Ow, ok nope bad plan. Not doing that.” She slumps back down with a moan.

“What are you doing?” Beatrice reaches out to hold her gently, “stop moving, you’re going to rip your stitches.”

“Come here,” Ava shifts to the side as much as she can with a grimace. “Lie down with me.”

“The bed is too small and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Pleaseee,” she looks up with her big puppy eyes and Beatrice can feel herself fold like a house of cards. 

“I can’t get to you and I want you close.”

The words make her mind go blank. Sometimes she’s envious of how easily Ava can express herself. How she goes for what she wants, without the self doubt Beatrice seems to be plagued by. She understands the urge, she can feel the same need to be close to her, yearning to care and protect her at all times. It had surprised her in the beginning, how drawn she was to her. She was self-centered and thoughtless, but there was a brightness to her that was magnetic. The more she learned about her, the more she wanted to know. 

She takes another moment to compose herself, to make sure her voice won’t crack, before saying “fine, just for a little while.” 

Carefully, she lies down on top of the blanket, making sure she doesn’t touch Ava in any way.

She’s still too close, their faces inches apart. At this distance, she can clearly see Ava’s long eyelashes, her slightly glassy but bright eyes, her lips curved into a tired smile.

She’s the most breathtaking person she’s ever laid eyes on.

“Was that so bad?”

“Torturous,” she teases and Ava gasps, gripping her chest in mock offense.

"I saved your life. You can't mock the injured person who saved your life."

That sobers her up. “Why would you do something so reckless?” She whispers.

“Well, I mean getting mauled by a Tarask wasn’t exactly my plan. I was trying to like hero dive us both out of the way.” 

“Ava, be serious for once in your life.” Her voice is sharp. She knows Ava can act without thinking, but she had to know how dangerous it was.

Her expression turns more solemn, “better me than you. I can heal fast, it would have killed you.”

“But why? It’s made of divinium, it could have killed you too, why take that risk?

Ava caresses her face with the care of an angel, but her eyes bore into hers with an intensity that almost makes Beatrice shudder. “You know why.”

“I’m-” she starts, but she can’t seem to get the words out. She understands the weight of Ava’s words, the unspoken subtext, but it’s hard for her to wrap her mind around. She wasn’t more important than their mission, she couldn’t be.

“You could have died! What would we have done then?” Her voice raises unconsciously and she squeezes her eyes shut at the thought of all the horrible what ifs that run through her mind.

“I would have done the exact same thing if I had a second chance.” Ava’s voice is firm.

“We can’t lose you,” she can feel tears drip down her face. 

“I can’t lose you.” Her voice cracks.

Ava’s smile is sad, “and I couldn’t lose you.”

She wants to rant about her duty as the Halo Bearer, the mission, anything to stop her from turning into a blubbering mess. But she’s scared if she tries to speak, she might blurt out all her feelings for her, how much she means to her. It’s brimming right under her skin and her lip is quivering trying to regain control. 

“Hey,” Ava grabs her hand and places it against her chest, “can you feel my heartbeat?”

She nods, the heartbeat under her hand is strong and steady.

“I’m still here, and I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, ok?” Ava wipes her tears away clumsily with her thumb.

“You better,” she says, her voice wet.

She takes a deep breath and backs away, wiping away the last remnants of tears, “I should notify the doctor you’re awake, she’ll want to check your wounds.”

Ava grabs her wrist to stop her from getting up, “can you do it? I don’t… I don’t really feel like being poked and prodded by a stranger right now.”

And because Beatrice seems to be unable to say no to her at the moment, she agrees with a slight trepidation.

As she grabs the necessary supplies, she uses the distance to try and compose herself. There’s a storm of emotions within her that she can barely comprehend and she’s not sure what to do with it. She’ll have to confront it later, but for now the focus should be on Ava.

Making her way back to Ava, she realizes she’ll need to remove Ava’s shirt, and all the composure she managed to salvage goes out the window again.

“Um, I need to, uh your shirt,” she fumbles with her words, gesturing to her top.

“Oh, right.”

Ava wiggles up just enough for Beatrice to lift her shirt up. She hears Ava mumble something like ‘not how I imagined…’ but she’s too busy making sure her hands aren’t trembling to catch all the words.

She peels the bandages off slowly, the blood in a couple spots makes it stick to her wound. It makes Ava wince, and though she doesn’t say a word, Beatrice rubs little circles on her back with her thumb to try and sooth it away.

“So what’s the damage?” Ava cranes her head, trying to peer over her shoulder.

It’s not as bad as it was. She remembers how her blood seemed to endlessly gush through her fingers as she frantically tried to apply pressure. How it looked like her back had split right open. The wound, stretching from the middle of her back to the curve around her hip, is red and nasty looking, but the stitches were holding and it looks like it’s beginning to heal, the skin slowly knitting together.

“It’s starting to heal.”

“See, just a flesh wound,” she chortled at her own reference. 

“Bea, I am…” she pauses dramatically, “just spine.”

This time Beatrice rolls her eyes, but she can’t stop herself from grinning ear to ear. Yes, she’s definitely back to normal if she’s back to telling terrible puns.

“That was horrible.”

“Horribly awesome.”

She wraps her wound back up with fresh bandages carefully, taking care not to make it too tight. Her hand lingers on her Halo scar, there’s something about it that draws her to it. Ava twitches as she traces over it lightly and Beatrice jerks away.

“Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to...”

“No, no. Just wasn’t expecting it,” she reassures. “Feels nice actually.”

“Oh.” 

She places her hand back ever so gently, slowly tracing the raised scar tissue. While she had been close friends with Sister Shannon, she has never been this close to the Halo. It’s a couple of degrees warmer than the rest of her skin, and as she brushes against it, she swears she can feel the Halo’s energy working to heal Ava. 

She sends a prayer of thanks to God for Ava’s swift recovery and for bringing her into her life. She may have only known her for a little while, but she has brought such a huge impact to her life. She can’t imagine life without her and she doesn’t want to.

The heart monitor startles them both, beeping like mad.

"Are you ok? Your heart is racing," Beatrice frets while Ava buries her face into the pillow, groaning, "are you in pain? I can ask the nurse to increase the pain medication dosage"

Ava shakes her head and glares at the machine like it's personally betrayed her. 

"No, no. It's just," she mumbles something else, but it's muffled by her hand covering her face.

Beatrice removes her hand gently and holds it instead, "what did you say?"

"It's you. You make my heart race." Ava's cheeks are dusted pink and she looks so beautiful Beatrice can barely think.

But then what she says registers and her eyebrows shoot up in shock and it's her turn to turn red.

"Me?" She squeaks, too bewildered to be embarrassed at how high her voice climbed.

It’s one thing to wonder if feelings are reciprocated, a whole nother for it to be confirmed out loud. She’s not quite sure how to react or what to say. 

“I…”

She cares, she cares so much, and she can’t deny her feelings and attraction to her, but saying it out loud is terrifying and she’s not sure if she’s brave enough right now.

She’s not quite sure what she sees in her face, but her expression grows soft, like she understands everything Beatrice can’t say.

“I know and it’s ok.” Her smile is shy as she says, “I just hope you know how much you mean to me. How much I care.”

She swallows, “I think I do.” Or at least she’s beginning to realize the depth of how much she cares. This growing connection between them. It both scares and warms her.

Ava kisses her palm, feather light yet somehow all-powerful, “good.”

They baste in comfortable silence until Ava starts to yawn as she struggles to stay awake.

“You should rest.”

“Stay with me?” There’s a hint of vulnerability layered in her voice as her eyes start to droop.

“I will, I promise.” 

She would stay for as long as she was allowed. 

In this life and the next.


End file.
